I had a rough weekend.   After posting on Saturday, I thought many thoughts about my Rosetta story and decided to give it up.  For now.  I don't know why, but I can't write that story right now.   

I got all depressed about it.  Like I do.  In the midst of a lengthy conversation where I felt sorry for myself, my way-too-patient husband convinced me to give MEOW SISTERS one more shot.   

So, I'm going to see what I can come up with.  I'm not going to read everything I wrote two plus years ago if I can help it ; I don't to be swayed into clinging to old ideas.  I'm going to start all over again and keep only the components that make sense.  I've learned a lot about writing a novel since I put this one aside, so I think I can do a better job with it than I could have back then.

Anyway, I know I said I wasn't going to read the old stuff.  But I did read one scene written March 30, 2006.  I might not use any of this in my new version, but I liked it and felt like sharing it.

I buried my face against Karl's chest and sat numb in his arms.  It was a horrible story, a horrible thing he’d been through.  And yet... part of me couldn’t help wondering if maybe it wasn’t the whole truth.  I mean, why didn’t he tell his dad?   And how could there have been no witnesses?   

I wanted to trust him.  I wanted to be a supportive girlfriend.  But I was starting to wonder whether he was truly the unluckiest guy on earth, or just some kind of pathological liar.  It seemed that he was a little of both—although I’m pretty sure calling someone is a little pathological is an oxymoron.  

Karl's breathing was loud in my ear.  He was waiting for me to freak out.  He wanted me to say something that would make it all better.  Like the last time he'd told me he'd almost been killed.  And the time before that.  And the time before that.